


At Night Near the Water

by going rogue (onlyastoryteller)



Series: A Room For The Night [5]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Fantasy island excursion, M/M, OT3, Pool Sex, Shots at social media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 22:45:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17252807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyastoryteller/pseuds/going%20rogue
Summary: Armie gets a late night phone call, and knows something is wrong. Can he help make it right?





	At Night Near the Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daretodream66](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daretodream66/gifts).



> I had a thought about Armie and Timmy's coinciding island vacations and had to write a thing.
> 
> This is purely 100% fiction. This did not happen. It is also not meant to express any personal feelings or beliefs about anyone's real life relationships. That's always implied, but it's especially important for me to make it clear for this one. These are imagined characters placed in a close-to-real-life situation and reacting in purely imaginary ways.
> 
> Warnings:  
> \- This story features an established OT3, so if that's not your thing, pass on by :)  
> \- There is also some commentary on recent social media freak-outs. No offense intended, this is me imagining how these characters may have reacted to it all.

It was after one in the morning when Armie’s phone rang. He heard the tone and groped blindly for it, the unfamiliar bed and nightstand hindering his progress enough that Liz stirred beside him.

“Timmy?” she murmured.

He grunted his response. Of course it was Timmy. He was the only contact set to override the “Do Not Disturb” setting.

He found the phone finally, and swiped at the display.

“Hey,” Armie said, his voice rough with sleep. “You okay?”

There was silence on the other end, then a sharp intake of breath that sounded suspiciously like a caught sob.

“Timmy.” Armie sat up in bed, fully alert. “What’s going on? Do you need—what do you need?”

“I’m…” Tim’s voice was thin and quiet. “I’m sorry.”

_Shit._ “What are you sorry for?” asked Armie. “What did you do?”

“I shouldn’t have—you’re asleep. I shouldn’t have called.” Tim was practically whispering, and that was never a good sign, not unless they were in front of an audience or the kid was in bed beside him. Whispering on the phone meant something was going on.

“I’m not asleep, I’m talking to you.” Armie waited a beat, and then said, “So talk to me. You been drinking?”

“No. Yes, but not—no.”

“No or yes?” Armie tried to keep his tone gentle. He needed to gauge the situation, figure out if he had to call Nick or someone.

“I was drinking at dinner, but then not. I’m not drunk. Or anything else.” Tim did sound clear, so Armie decided to believe him.

“Okay. Tell me what’s going on. How can I help?”

Armie felt a hand on his arm and glanced over at his wife. She was awake, too, her brows drawn in concern. He shook his head, trying to convey that he didn’t yet know what the problem was.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured to her. He climbed out of the bed and made his way into the villa’s living room. “Tim,” he said, “just talk to me. Please.”

There was a sigh, and then: “I’m outside.”

“What?”

“I’m outside. Of your villa. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I can—“

Armie was moving toward the front door. “Don’t move. I’m coming to let you in,” he said. “And don’t be ridiculous. I _invited_ you.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Timmy, just—“ Armie opened the front door, and there was Tim, wearing a black hoodie and cargo shorts, huddling in the shadows. “Just get in here.”

Tim took a step forward, and Armie reached out, and then Tim was in his arms. The kid pressed his face against Armie’s chest and slid his arms around Armie’s waist and _clung_.

Armie hung up his phone and wrapped his arms around Tim, running his hands up and down Tim’s back out of sheer habit.

“I’m sorry,” said Tim, his voice muffled.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Armie lowered his head so he could speak directly into Timmy’s ear. “I invited you to join us. And you did. I’m happy to see you.”

Tim snorted. “I’m sure you didn’t mean I should show up unannounced in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care when and how you show up, you know that. How did you get here?” asked Armie.

“Plane,” said Timmy. “I decided I needed to be here instead of there and just... _hired_ one. It was easy. Amazing what a little cash can do.”

“Tell me about it,” said Armie. “Okay, can we go inside? Have a seat and talk about what prompted this?”

Tim nodded against Armie’s chest and then pulled away. He swiped at his cheeks with his palm. “Jesus, I’m such a total—“

“Stop,” said Armie, a little too sharply. He reached out and grabbed Tim’s hand. “Come on.”

Armie tugged Tim slightly and led him into the villa, shutting the door. He hesitated in the living room and then, on second thought, pulled him through the room and out onto the terrace.

“Kids are asleep,” he said, by explanation.

Then he sank onto one of the loungers and opened his arms. With a sigh, Tim crawled on top of him and settled in so that they were chest to chest, legs tangled together, Tim’s rapidly growing curls nestled under Armie’s chin.

They lay in silence for a time, listening to the waves crashing on the beach less than a hundred feet away, A cool breeze passed over them, and Armie felt goosebumps rise on his exposed skin. He had a fleeting thought that he should have grabbed a robe, but then Tim began to trace patterns on his skin, and he decided that a little chill was a fair trade for feeling Tim cuddled against his bare chest.

“How was the rest of your birthday?” Armie asked softly. He and Tim had FaceTimed for a while in the morning and then he had sent a few more texts throughout the day, but hadn’t heard anything else from the kid in the couple of days since.

“It was okay,” said Tim. He snorted. “Lily made cookies and somehow they were salty.”

Armie shrugged. “It happens sometimes. Maybe she confused teaspoon for tablespoon in the recipe.”

“Yeah, except...she baked them from a roll of pre-made dough.”

“Oh.” Armie smiled. “Well...maybe you can only have one girl in your life at a time who bakes like a dream.”

“The others are having a blast. I mainly was just wishing I was here.” Tim snuggled closer and pressed his lips to Armie’s collarbone. “I was watching your posts and feeling so jealous.”

“Is that what made you fly over?” asked Armie.

Tim shrugged. “Maybe. Everyone was partying and I just...I realized I wasn’t where I wanted to be. I wanted to be _here_. I should have been here. I was watching Elizabeth post those photos of you guys, and I wanted to be in them. I wanted to splash in the ocean with Harper and build sandcastles with Ford and have dinner and just...I wish we didn’t have to play these games.”

“Me too,” said Armie. “But we’ve talked about this. A lot. If we told everyone that for the past two years you’ve been in a relationship with a married guy, or worse yet, with a married guy _and_ his wife...well, it would hurt you — and your career — much more than it would us.”

“I know,” said Tim. “But it makes me _hate_ this business. Tonight I felt like saying fuck it all. I almost called Brian and told him he could fuck off and I wasn’t going to do it anymore.”

Armie paused. Then he flattened his palm against Tim’s back, feeling the kid’s ribcage rise and fall with his breathing. A little too fast. Tim was feeling anxious.

He sighed. “Tell me why you love being an actor.”

“Armie—“

“Come on, you know the rules. When we start to question whether it’s worth it, we ask why we love it.” Armie began to scratch his fingers up and down Tim’s back, and he felt Tim begin to relax, muscle by muscle.

“And if we can’t come up with anything that’s when it’s time to quit,” Tim grumbled. “I know.”

“So? Why do you love it?”

Tim ran his fingers down Armies chest and ribs as he composed his thoughts, and Armie waited patiently, enjoying the feeling of comfort and contentment he felt at the action.

“I love the thinking. The intellectual side. Like, when I get a part and have to think about the person underneath the character. Find the things I can identify with. Research.”

“Nerd,” murmured Armie into Timmy’s curls.

“Shut up, you are too.” Tim tugged at a few strands of Armie’s chest hair, and Armie grunted. “I love telling stories that mean something to people. The people who see them, the people involved with making them...it feels like I’m giving something to people when that happens.”

“So no rom-coms in your future?” Armie asked with a chuckle.

“Hey, rom-coms mean something to some people,” Tim said. “Don’t be judgy.”

“Sorry. What else?”

“I love meeting fans,” said Tim. “Does that make me a fame-hungry asshole?”

“No,” said Armie. “I love that, too. Seeing the excitement because someone loves things you’ve done and appreciates you? It’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Tim sighed. “Those are pretty good reasons to stick with it, even with the shitty crap we have to deal with.”

“I’d say so,” said Armie. “Also, you’ve just gotten started. Imagine what you still haven’t done.”

“Armie—“ There was a warning tone in Tim’s voice, and Armie silently cursed himself.

“Right, sorry. Too much pressure.” Armie tightened his arms in repentance and Tim snuggled closer with a sigh.

“I know I’m doing what I’m meant to do,” he said. “But I also know that I’m not living the life I’m meant to live. Not really. And it’s like...have you looked? At what they’ve been saying about me?”

_Fuck_. Armie had, but he had been hoping that maybe Timmy could let loose with his friends for a few days, lay low, and not notice.

“You said you were going to stop lurking your mentions,” Armie said. “Remember that? ‘I’ve got a New Year’s Resolution, Armie,’ you said. ‘I’m going to ignore social media. No more stalking fan accounts and reading shit on Tumblr. It’s fucking with my head and it’s stopped being funny.’”

“I...did say that,” said Tim.

“And?”

“And it was a New Year’s Resolution. It’s still December.”

“Barely,” said Armie. “I’m sorry. I just wish you hadn't seen all that shit. It is, you know. Shit. Those people know fuck-all about you and your life. They just speculate based on almost nothing. You _know_ this, because we _use_ it to make them think things.”

“I know. Fuck, Armie, I know it. But it’s like...they’re not that wrong about it. They know _we’re_ not just _friends_ , for one thing. I mean, they have all sorts of guesses of how and what and which, but they can tell that this best friends bullshit is...well, bullshit.” Tim pushed himself up slightly, bracing his forearms against Armie’s chest in a way that sort of pinched, and shook his head. “And I’m kind of glad about that, because it helps that I can’t tell everyone about us. At least some of them know the truth, or parts of it.”

“Yeah, and we let them see just enough to get there,” said Armie. “That was _my_ idea. Brian and Evelyn wanted us to basically pretend not to know each other after the promo tour, remember Texas? But I argued that people were going to talk one way or another, so if we gave them a little, we could always say we were playing to the fans. And if we did slip up or they noticed us together when we weren’t supposed to be—”

“Bestest buddies. I know. But...like...okay. This last round of stuff? They’re saying I’m a hypocrite, or I’m not who they thought, because I was promoting this anti-drug movie and now I’m riding around with a bunch of...and they aren’t even that bad, not really, but that’s not even the point because the fans are right, and we didn’t think of that. We were just thinking about how to counterbalance the rumors about you and me. It’s like…”

“It’s like when you craft a lie, it’s hard to figure out all the ramifications or fallout.”

“Right.” Tim settled back onto Armie’s chest. “Whatever. I’m tired of thinking about this.”

“Well,” Armie said, “it’s done, at least for now, right? I mean, you’re here. And all the fuckers online will move on or forgive you or both in a matter of days. You’ve got all those award shows coming up. It’ll simmer down, and you’ll be their angel all over again.”

Tim was quiet for a while. Armie began to rub Tim’s back again, pressing a little harder at particularly tense spots until Tim seemed to melt against him. He let his hands drift lower, to the hem of Tim’s sweatshirt and then up underneath, where he could get at some of that tender skin. Tim skimmed his nose along Armie’s collarbone and hummed.

“What do you need from me?” asked Armie. “Tonight. Right now. Forget about everything else. What do you need?”

After a moment, Tim said, “Can we go swimming?”

“Just us?”

“Just us,” said Tim.

“Yeah,” said Armie. “Let’s do that.”

Tim pushed himself up and off the lounger, but kept his hand on Armie’s thigh until Armie was standing beside him with an arm wrapped over his shoulders. They walked like that, pressed together, to the small pool at the edge of the terrace. Armie crouched down and hit a few buttons, and the underwater lights came on, illuminating the area in lines of wavy blue beams.

He rose, and turned to Tim, who simply looked up at him, his eyes shining in the dim lights. Armie smiled.

“You’re awfully clothed for a dip in the pool,” said Armie.

“I’m sure if you think it over, you'll figure out some way to fix that,” said Tim, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. _Fucking finally_ , thought Armie.

“Hmmm. That’s a tough one. I wonder…” Armie stepped closer and slid his fingers under the front of Tim’s sweatshirt. “Aha. There’s that skin.”

Slowly, he drew the hem of the sweatshirt up, up, up, until it was bunched under Tim’s armpits. Then, just as Tim was about to raise his arms, Armie dropped to his knees on the cool pavement.

Tim sucked in a breath as Armie’s mouth met his navel. Armie placed a row of open-mouthed kisses along Tim’s stomach just above the waistband of his shorts, loving the little whimpers he was drawing from the kid as he went.

He pushed back onto his feet, never lifting his mouth from Tim’s skin. It traveled up and traced a path along his lower ribs, then back to his sternum. When he reached Tim’s nipples, he switched from lips to teeth and tongue, and Tim’s hands flew up to grasp at Armie’s hair.

“Fuck,” Tim whispered. Armie grinned. This was the kind of whisper that meant everything was _right._

Armie straightened the rest of the way, yanking Tim’s sweatshirt up and off, flinging it to the side. He captured Tim’s mouth as soon as it was freed from the shirt, and he felt Tim’s gasp cut short. He kept the kiss deep and long, until he was sure Tim was seeing stars from lack of oxygen.

When he pulled back, he gripped Tim’s hips to keep him steady and dropped to his knees once again. Using only his teeth, he pulled the drawstring tie of Tim's shorts loose and then gently drew the zipper down. He licked the metallic taste from his lips and looked up at Tim.

Tim was staring down at him, mouth slightly open, eyes wide and unfocused.

“This isn’t swimming,” Tim said.

“We’ll get to that,” said Armie. “But we need to get you undressed first.”

With a sharp yank, Armie pulled Tim’s shorts and boxers down to his ankles, allowing Tim’s cock to spring free and stand at attention. He carefully ignored it, helping Tim step out of his pants, first one leg and then the other.

“There,” he said. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the tip of Tim’s cock, then stood and shucked off his own boxers. He held out a hand. “Shall we?”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” said Tim. But he took Armie’s hand and followed him to the steps at one end of the small pool.

“That’s usually my line,” said Armie. “I sort of like being on the other end.”

The water of the heated pool was warm in contrast to the night air, and they both sighed as they descended the stairs. Armie continued walking until they were in the “deep” end. It was only about four feet of water, which meant his chest and shoulders were well above the surface. He pulled Tim in front of him, spun him around, and pressed him against the side with the entire length of his body.

Tim initiated the kiss this time, a slow, confident exploration. Armie was glad he didn’t sense desperation or urgency. Tim wasn’t looking to be _fucked_ tonight, or to do any fucking. He was looking for something else. Reassurance, comfort. Love. And Armie could give him that.

He let Tim have control for a bit, moving against him in the warm water. After a while, Armie trailed his right hand along the curve of Tim’s ass and drew his right leg up to hook around Armie’s waist. He did the same with the left, and then sank into the water so that they were covered to their necks.

Tim took Armie’s face in his hands and began to scatter small kisses — on his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids. Armie skimmed his fingers along Tim’s spine and up into his hair, and when he had had enough of the delicate kissing, he tugged lightly at the curls in his hands until Timmy tipped his head back, giving Armie access to the entire length of his neck.

As he sucked and nibbled, he had a fleeting thought that he could leave as many marks as he wanted and they could just blame them on Lily. As much as Tim was down on the whole charade, there was no denying it made some things convenient.

Tim’s whimpers got a shade louder, and Armie could feel Tim’s hard length pressing against his stomach. With a soft growl, he grabbed Tim’s hips and spun him around, pulling him back into Armie’s chest and wrapping his arms around Tim’s stomach. He walked backwards, staying low in the water, until he felt the stairs beneath him and could settle himself onto the lowest one.

“Armie,” whispered Tim, gripping Armie’s forearms.

“Shhhh.” Armie trailed his hand down Tim’s stomach and then along Tim’s cock. He wrapped his fingers around Tim and began to stroke, slowly, never speeding up, never varying the rhythm. Tim’s breathing became more ragged and his head fell back onto Armie’s shoulder. When he started to moan, Armie increased the pressure of his fingers ever so slightly, and Tim let out a strangled cry and was coming, streaks of white spiraling through the water.

Armie shifted Tim then so that he was sitting sideways on Armie’s lap, and tipped his chin up so Armie could find Tim’s lips. They sat there a while, kissing slowly, until Tim’s heartbeat slowed to normal.

“Thank you,” said Tim. “That was exactly what I needed.”

“I know,” said Armie. “I’ll always take care of you.”

“I know,” said Tim. He huffed a breath into Armie’s neck. “I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

“Why do you?” asked Armie. “Stay. Liz will want some time with you, and the kids would love to see you. You can...build sandcastles and splash and all that.”

“The plane is on standby,” said Tim.

“So call it off.”

“They — the others — don’t even know I left.”

Armie pulled back slightly, a bit alarmed. “Tim, you didn’t tell anyone you were leaving? They might call the cops or something.”

“I told Lily I was going out for a while. I just didn’t say I was leaving the island.” He sighed. “I’ll be back before daylight, they won’t even notice.”

Armie tightened his grip. “Don’t leave,” he said. “Seriously, I’m not kidding. What the fuck does it matter?”

“I’m supposed to be there for New Year’s. Kissing photos, you know.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Armie muttered.

“Hey,” said Tim. “Weren’t you just telling me that it was worth it and didn’t matter?”

“Yeah. Okay, so you have a whole day. Spend it with us. Fly back tomorrow evening.” Armie nuzzled into Tim’s neck. “Please. You just got here.”

“It’ll screw up everything we’ve set up,” said Tim.

“No. No, it won’t,” said Armie. “Listen. You’ve been in exactly _zero_ photos and videos so far, even though you were fucking _there_. Liz has been posting about us for days. We keep doing that — Liz posts me and the kids and her, your friends post whatever they want — and it’ll just look like more of the same.”

Tim paused, considering. “But what if someone sees us?”

“Who?” said Armie. “It’s a private beach. We’ll stick around here tomorrow, order room service. No one will know, and we’ll bundle you out in time to fly back for midnight.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Armie held his breath, almost afraid to hope. Tim had been protesting so much he had been sure the kid was going to disappear into the night and he’d be left wondering if it had been real or just a vivid dream.

“I said okay.” Tim tapped Armie’s nose. “Since you’re so desperate for it.”

“I am,” said Armie. “But then, that’s not a surprise.”

He pushed Tim off his lap and stood, but grabbed Tim’s hand.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s call off your plane, set it up for tomorrow night, and go to bed.”

They collected their clothes and made their way inside. Armie dug up a couple of towels so they could dry off and pull on their boxers again. Tim made the necessary calls and texts, and then Armie was leading Tim through the villa to the master bedroom, where Liz was snoring softly.

He reached the bed first, and lifted the comforter. Tim crawled underneath, and Armie climbed in after him, pulling the blanket over them both.

Liz stirred. “Is Timmy okay?” she asked sleepily.

“He is,” said Armie. “See for yourself.”

She opened her eyes fully, and Armie grinned at the surprise and delight on her face when she realized that Tim was settling into bed between them.

“Babe,” she said with a laugh. “You’re really here?”

“Until tomorrow night,” said Tim.

“Most excellent,” said Liz. She wrapped an arm around Tim’s waist and he shifted until she was curled up against his back. Armie laid an arm over them both, and smiled as Tim snuggled into his chest.

“Tim?” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you came.” Armie kissed the top of his head.

“Me too,” said Tim. “And I thought of another one.”

“Another what?” asked Armie.

“Another reason I love acting.” Tim’s voice had started to slur with the beginnings of sleep.

“What’s that?” Armie’s own voice was starting to get that exhausted rumble, now that he was horizontal in bed once again.

“It brought me to you,” said Tim. Armie felt Tim’s lips on his neck, and pulled him closer, holding him tight until his breathing evened out and he had dropped into a comfortable sleep.

Armie added that reason to his own list, and as he drifted off, he was smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> I made a conscious decision to write and publish my way into 2019. This is meant to be a "start as you mean to go on" kind of thing and set the right tone for the year. Thank you for indulging me.
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR!


End file.
